Remember there was this, "Tom", a dishevelled bloke, who stumbled into me camp a few weeks ago, like some post Halloween zombie? He said he's lost his skipper, his place to sleep at night, in Bristol and been beaten up. He seemed genuine enough. I fed him for a couple of days. Felt sorry for him really, and a bit of company made a change for me. Trouble was he became a bit of pain and had an odd air about him. Asked a lot of weird questions. I didn't feel quiet safe with him. Told him to go in the end. Well a copper came today and asked me about him. Apparently he's not homeless at all, well not currently anyway. He's part of some gang, maybe a seaman, who are people smugglers. They go after the poor buggers who have escaped from their nasty clutches. The police want me to make a formal statement. So there is more to come on this. I feel a bit stupid really. I should have seen through Tom, but I reckon he must have been homeless for real sometime, he knew all the stuff. Life is never dull here. I told the copper about the lights out on the water. Will be keeping me "protection" with me now.